


break my stride

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Character Study, Equipment Modifications, Injury, M/M, Pre-Series, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Trope Bingo Round 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swindle finds a bounty hunter for sale in an alien curio show and purchases him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	break my stride

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'deal with the devil' square of my trope bingo card! This fic is set pre-series, before Lockdown's become a famous bounty hunter - he's only mildly famous at this point. I think that's all the context you need for it, so - enjoy!

"I'll take the Nebulon Blasters, two of whatever those gleaming green things are, and the mech in the stasis cuffs. Without the extras, please and thank you. Yes, that'll be all. Have it boxed up and sent to the ship in Bay 17. Promptly! Promptly, my good friend, I don't want to dawdle _too_ long, or I'll spend all my credits here!"

One pair of red optics swing up in the background of the merchant's vidscreen and fix on his, a good sign, _someone's _still thinking in that captured cranium. Swindle keeps his focus firmly on the merchant and endures the probing comment about robotic lifeforms engaging in slave-trade of their own kind - he laughs it off, waving one hand dismissively.__

__"It's for a friend," he says smoothly. "No, I don't make a practice of it. Do you? Thought not. I try not to deal in live merchandise - it's so difficult to transport! Costs me an arm and a leg just to keep it functioning. But you know what they say: anything for the right price! Now, I don't mean to rush, but I _do_ want those Blasters in my cargo hold before I have to leave. I'll leave you to it."_ _

__Swindle closes the comm without any further fanfare, settling back in his chair for a brief klik to ponder the mystery: how _did_ Lockdown get himself captured and sold?_ _

__It's easy to imagine some bounty turning the tables on Lockdown, snagging him in his own cuffs and selling him as if he were some trinket found while scavenging. It's easier to imagine another hunter aiming to catch a faction-free Cybertronian for some wealthy collector. There are more scenarios, and all Swindle can think is that he's missed some intricate game of cat-and-glitch-mouse out there amongst the stars, and what a shame for that! Lockdown's ship must have had some marvelous equipment he could have scavenged and sold himself for a tidy profit._ _

__Swindle hums to himself, finally rising to flit across his ship, activating different sets of security systems, locking his weapons up tight and triple-securing the bridge, and the secondary controls, and the tertiary controls, and anything relating to the operation of the ship itself. Lockdown might not be grateful for the rescue, and it always pays to be safe._ _

__The cargo bay's his final destination, his favorite room in the entire ship with its huge amounts of space. He's got the walls lined with crates of all colors, arranged by size with the hulking organic foodstuffs occupying one whole section - reliable sellers, a stable market that - and the rest of the sections split up into armaments, equipment for starships, and the dizzying amount of shelves for the smaller items, the trinkets and curios that sell for huge prices when offered to the correct buyer._ _

__Nothing's labeled, of course. It's all in his head - no need to help any potential thieves._ _

__One indulgent tour later, Swindle's down by the entrance of the cargo bay, there just in time to greet the movers. He authorizes the lowering of the ramp when they comm, and he waves as the six-armed workers heft the huge crate containing his Blasters up and over to the yellow-painted rectangle outlining where he wants deliveries placed, standard in ports in this quadrant. The crate's dropped with a thump, and the team waves to him in unison, limbs flashing red and green with organic biolights before they walk out. Swindle waits out the handful of kliks, and three of them return, two shoving Lockdown between them, lights flashing yellow with annoyance at how slowly he's shuffling over the deck._ _

__Swindle turns away from him, smiling genially at the third worker as it presents a smaller crate, opening the top as he gestures it closer. He's shown the casing for the gleaming green curios he's purchased, encouraged to scan it._ _

__"It's all in order, my friend," Swindle says, closing the top himself and leading the worker over to the closest shelf, placing it securely in one slot, the magnets built into the storage sealing the box down. At the open hand Swindle deposits six credit chips, sufficient amount to tip the entire team, and the worker vanishes, leaving Swindle to seal the energy shield - extra protection - before he walks back out to secure his final purchase personally._ _

__Lockdown's watching him from the floor, one of the workers flashing multiple upset colors as it keeps a foot on his back._ _

__"The key, please," Swindle says, holding out a hand. The second worker hands him the key to the stasis cuffs, and he waves them off, leaving Lockdown on the floor as he raises the ramp._ _

__Only when the ramp is up and their privacy assured does Swindle really look at Lockdown: the mildly famous bounty hunter is covered with scratches and dents, dried energon caked around some ugly looking gashes in his arms. Whatever happened to him, he hasn't been allowed to repair or even clean himself, and given the gouges up and down his back the fight must have been a fierce one - or the abuse, suffered after he was captured - but Lockdown's staring him down, optics still gleaming as fiercely as they ever did._ _

__So Swindle assumes. He's only met the bounty hunter in person a few times before this, just enough to establish him as a decent customer, worth cultivating if he survived to collect on some of those larger bounties._ _

__"I hope you'll forgive me for neglecting to pay for extras," Swindle says, holding the key up. "I thought you might appreciate using my facilities more than they'd appreciate figuring out how to clean you up."_ _

__"What do you get out of this, Swindle?" Lockdown growls - asks, really, but his vocalizer is in such a wretched state that it has to be called a growl._ _

__Swindle grins and crouches in front of Lockdown, continuing to hold the key in plain view. "What _don't_ I get out of this, Lockdown? _You_ owe me a favor. You owe me a dozen favors if I unlock those stasis cuffs. Why, you're going to be so grateful to me that you'll come to me for all of your future purchasing needs. I suggest," he says in a conspiratorial tone, "That you start by paying me to retrieve or replace your ship. And don't you worry about your current financial situation! I'll happily accept delayed payments - with interest, of course!"_ _

__"...Should've known," Lockdown says. He begins to twist himself onto his side, sparks leaping in the air as the stasis cuffs shock him for unauthorized movement - he snarls, an awful sound that rings cash register sounds in Swindle's processors: Lockdown's vocalizer is clearly busted to the point of needing an expensive repair or a replacement._ _

__"Lockdown! Lockdown," Swindle gives credit to himself: he actually sounds mildly concerned. "Those are quality stasis cuffs. Unless you happen to possess a mod that can nullify their paralyzing effects, you know there's no point in wasting time and energy trying to get them off on your own - and I'm certain you don't want to drive your repair bill up any further."_ _

__He helpfully holds up the key again, smirking as Lockdown glares at him._ _

__"It really isn't a good trait in a bounty hunter to be stubborn to the point of stupidity," Swindle points out._ _

__They sit in silence for a klik. The glare eases off, gears finally beginning to turn. Lockdown growls softly, probably finding the taste of pride going down to be unpleasant._ _

__Swindle could empathize. He could even make this easier on him. He doesn't._ _

__"Do we have a deal, Lockdown?" Swindle asks. Lockdown jerks a nod._ _

__There's another round of waiting - the glare comes back as Lockdown forces down the rest of his pride._ _

__"Deal."_ _

__Swindle beams and finally undoes the cuffs, dropping them and the key into his subspace before he helps Lockdown up to his pedes. The gashes look even worse up close, some of the dried energon actually smoking thanks to the sparks._ _

__"The wash-racks and repair kits are this way," Swindle says, keeping his hands firmly wrapped around Lockdown's upper arm and shoulder as he guides him off. At this range Swindle can smell the burnt wiring and the sickly sweet tang of fresh energon. He can hear the clunks and unhealthy grinding sounds as Lockdown's systems cope with what must be debilitating injuries. Even his EM field is an angry display, a collection of unpleasant pin-pricks against his own field, laced with a running thread of exhaustion._ _

__It's a dangerous place to stay, but with Lockdown's only hand held between them Swindle's left fear behind - and if Lockdown does attempt to turn the tables, he'll quickly discover that Swindle doesn't just sell weaponry._ _

__Doors open automatically as they approach the back of the cargo bay, and Swindle steers Lockdown through into the corridor, then directly left into the washracks, positioned for quick scrub-jobs and minor repairs. There's enough space for five average-sized mechs to use the facilities, more than enough for the two of them. It's decorated with a pleasing golden paintjob and equipped with scanners, repair kits - everything a mech could want in an emergency, sans a trained medic._ _

__"The repair 'racks: your one stop shop for repairs and cleaning the blood of the enemies off of your weapons," Swindle explains cheerfully as the door closes behind them. "Would you like a solvent shower first, or some patches for those tears?"_ _

__"Repairs," Lockdown says, vocalizer hissing ominously before it resets with a pop. "Gets hard to see with this many error messages."_ _

__"For the price they were asking for you, I would have expected them to include basic repairs in the deal," Swindle says with a tsk. "Repairs it is!" He pushes Lockdown onto the only stool while he activates a row of scanners, grabbing the repair kit from its compartment under them._ _

__"The only thing they knew about Cybertronians was to keep the stasis cuffs on tight," Lockdown says, opening the kit and rummaging through it, grabbing the packages of nanites and tearing those open with his teeth, pouring them over some of the nastier gashes on his arm. "Had to make it real clear they were starving me."_ _

__"What excellent hosts," Swindle says, watching the dried energon flake off as the nanites chew through it and Lockdown's paint, stripping him down to bare metal before beginning to initiate repairs. _"Are_ you starving?"_ _

__"Not yet," Lockdown says. "Ask me after I've had a chance to recharge."_ _

__Swindle nods, lining up a full menu for later, starting with the expensive dishes. Lockdown takes more of the nanites, liberally applying them to his legs and torso...and Swindle thinks of a question._ _

__"How are you going to get those on your other arm?"_ _

__Lockdown fixes him with a level look, then holds out his arm, slowly rotating it: no injuries. Scratches, dents, but no terrible gashes._ _

__"How - ?"_ _

__"Luck," Lockdown rasps, vocalizer acting up again. "Leading with my right arm. I've lost the hand before. Not doing that again."_ _

__"I _could_ sell you a brand new hand, easy installation, multiple-features - "_ _

__"No."_ _

__Swindle blinks, surprised to be shot down so quickly. Lockdown ignores him, pouring out more nanites on his neck, twisting to deposit them into places on his back, displaying a level of flexibility Swindle hadn't expected out of his damaged frame._ _

__"I could assist with those repairs - "_ _

__"No," Lockdown repeats, and this time Swindle takes offense._ _

__"At least _allow_ me to make the full sales pitch before you turn me down! That's called basic courtesy!"_ _

__"You're going to charge me one huge bill," Lockdown says, exhaustion and pain running thick through his EM field. "Not adding to it."_ _

__"But the charge would be minimal! You look like you could use some skilled repairs, and I just happen to - "_ _

__"No."_ _

__Swindle's smile slips, then turns aggressive. Lockdown glances at him, then looks at him and reaches out to tap his hook against his chest._ _

__"Charge extra for services I didn't ask for and I won't pay those bills," he says, growling again. He gets up, dropping the used packet of nanites in the kit before slamming the lid shut and walking into the washracks. Swindle turns to watch him fumble with the controls, optic ridges rising._ _

__By all rights he shouldn't hound a tired, angry mech - but he's annoyed himself. He's presented Lockdown with a fine rescue and gotten nothing but angry rebuffs in return._ _

__"A little gratitude wouldn't go amiss," he says, not so much testing the waters as deliberately jumping in pedes first._ _

__Lockdown snorts, looking at him as he activates the solvent, frame rocking back under the blast before he leans into the spray of hot liquid._ _

__"Gratitude for purchasing me, then making me pay for the rescue? You'll get your credits when I've collected enough bounties to pay you off for good," Lockdown ducks his head under the solvent, optics dimming. For a klik he stays there, and Swindle takes in the view - the solvent's making interesting pathways through the nanites. Lockdown's paintjob is running together where it hasn't flaked off, and for all he looks like a mess, there's something appealing about the view._ _

__"You're going to need new paints," Swindle says, unable to pass up the opportunity._ _

__Red optics flick on and fix on him._ _

__"Out," Lockdown says. "Hate to be rude, but if you try to sell me something else before I've had a chance to recharge, I'll gouge out your optics."_ _

__Swindle grins at him. "You're passing up a personal guide to a berth. A heated berth. No extra charge, it's already included in the rescue and repair package."_ _

__Lockdown grunts, optics turning back off. Swindle takes that as invitation to back off to the stool, moving the repair kit to the floor as he has a seat, running numbers in his processor. If they can't locate Lockdown's ship, then a new one with all of the fancy bounty-hunting add-ons will run him - oh, a small fortune. A medium one, if he wants a cloaking device. The amount of money they're talking is worth sticking around for, even if it comes with the catch of waiting for Lockdown to work for the credits._ _

__The numbers are a better show than Lockdown scrubbing himself down is - Swindle's grin is even wider when Lockdown comes out of the racks, damp and unpolished. Somehow his distinctive facial paint is mostly intact - Swindle will need to learn exactly which paints he used so he can invest in that manufacturer._ _

__"You mentioned a berth."_ _

__Swindle gets to his feet, leading Lockdown off, not bothering to help him walk this time, sensors dialed up to track Lockdown's movements behind him out of obligatory paranoia._ _

__The berths aren't far off - the ship's equipped with two proper recharge slabs, and one's his. The other one belongs in a room comfortable enough to belong in a fancy hotel, equipped with all of the amenities the traveling Cybertronian could want - or alien, provided he has time in advance to change the atmospheric conditions and available refreshments._ _

__"More yellow?" Lockdown asks when he steps inside, looking over the golden walls._ _

__"I've yet to find a species who dislikes the color," Swindle says, gesturing to himself, relishing Lockdown's amused glance. "Try the berth. We can discuss business in the morning."_ _

__Amusement vanishes. Lockdown gives him another one of those searching looks._ _

__"You going to join me?"_ _

__Swindle blinks. "Excuse me?"_ _

__"Are you going to join me in the berth?" Lockdown repeats, vocalizer rasping every word unpleasantly. Nothing about him should be attractive in this instant - he's barely repaired, clearly exhausted, still damp - but as the confusion clears Swindle considers the offer, raising a few fingers to his chin._ _

__It'd be fun, but what would he get out of it?_ _

__Lockdown reaches out and takes his wrist, stepping close enough to bump chest-plates. His grip is strong - Swindle warms up the weapons hiding in his shoulders, just in case._ _

__"Don't try to sell me anything," Lockdown says, optics fixed on his. "Just answer the question."_ _

__Another set of equipment begins to warm up as Swindle evaluates, re-evaluates, and turns his wrist, tilting Lockdown's chin up with a finger._ _

__"Never let it be said I can't mix business with pleasure," he says, tone cheerful as he meets Lockdown's optics with a sly look. "I've already purchased you, I might as well cash in the benefits - "_ _

__Lockdown shoves his hook into his mouth with more force than strictly necessary._ _

__"Stop talking," he growls. Swindle's lips move over the hook before he gently uses both hands to remove it from his mouth._ _

__"I was only going to say, I'd be happy to act as your personal berth warmer," Swindle says, fingers folded over Lockdown's hook. "No additional fees necessary, of course."_ _

__"Of course," Lockdown echoes, field relaxing as he tugs Swindle towards the berth, placing his hand on Swindle's hip. Exhaustion is a steady presence in his field, but it loses ground to his growing arousal as Swindle's laid out in the berth._ _

__"No cables," Swindle says hastily as Lockdown straddles his waist and slides down to kneel over his thighs, bracing his hand against Swindle's chest. He taps his hook against Swindle's panels, optics flickering from his face to his 'facing array._ _

__"I wasn't expecting any," Lockdown says, sending interesting flashes of pleasure/pain through Swindle's sensors as the sharp tip of his hook finds the nearly invisible seams of his panels and begins to work them open the hard way. "Wasn't expecting you to hold out on me, either."_ _

__"Why, Lockdown," Swindle says, reaching down to slide a finger over his hook. "You're rushing."_ _

__He has Lockdown's total attention as he traces his fingertip along the inner curve of his hook, tapping sensitive metal against the point before tracing down the other side, skipping from it to his panels. Lockdown's fans kick up a notch, blowing hot air across them as Swindle manually opens his panels, smirking as he angles his hips up to better present his valve._ _

__"I'm heavily modded, featuring inbuilt vibrators, several magnetizing functions, and more," Swindle murmurs, selling himself as he slips a finger inside. Lockdown digs his fingers into his chest, growling - Swindle looks up at him with wide optics. "I expect yours is comparable, given your known fetish for mods?"_ _

__"How much of yourself are you selling?"_ _

__"Lockdown, Lockdown," Swindle says, laugh faintly uneasy as he pulls his finger out of himself. "You don't have the credits, and I'm afraid even the promise of future bounties won't do."_ _

__"But you are on sale."_ _

__"Anything for a profit," Swindle says, brushing his fingers over Lockdown's panels. "Your turn, hm?"_ _

__Lockdown abruptly seizes his neck, shoving him back against the berth. His face looms in Swindle's vision, optics locked on his._ _

__Somehow Lockdown's angled his hook so the point of it is pressing inside his valve, as much of a threat as the hand at his neck. Unaccountably Swindle spreads his legs a little further, lets his fans run higher._ _

__"Why did you buy me?"_ _

__"Profit," Swindle says, lets himself lie limp under Lockdown's tightening grip. "Purely monetary reasons, I assure you - we aren't friends. Why, you're barely a customer!"_ _

__"Who paid you to do it?" The hook scrapes threateningly over a node, making Swindle gasp._ _

__"No one!" This could actually be a dangerous situation, Swindle thinks belatedly, staring up into Lockdown's narrowed optics. It could end with painful damage to his expensive valve, it could end with his vocalizer crushed, why, Lockdown could do far more than scratch his paint. "I _told_ you, Lockdown, I bought you purely for the future profits - you have the makings of a tenacious, _profitable_ bounty hunter who will keep coming back for weapons and supplies. Cultivating a customer like you is only - "_ _

__"Stupid," Lockdown finishes for him. "You're _gambling_ on a mech you dug out of a curio shop. Any bounty could be my last, and you'd be out the fortune it'd take to replace my ship. There's not a chance in the Inferno that I'm a safe investment. So tell me, Swindle," he leans in, that skulls-face taking up all of Swindle's view - _"Why_ buy me?"_ _

__Swindle laughs, yelps when Lockdown pulls up with his hook, finally answers - "You're not as important as you think you are. No one paid me to pick you up. No one knew you were in that shop. I threw you into the deal because you were cheap, and getting you back hunting again will be cheaper than you imagine. You are _profitable_ as long as you aren't stupid - and if you're stupid enough to get caught off-guard again, everything you have will have a tracker on it. I'll find you and sell your frame if I have to. Like I've been saying this whole time - I picked you up to profit off of you."_ _

__It takes a klik, two, before Lockdown relaxes his grip on Swindle's neck and leans up, hook shifting in Swindle's valve._ _

__"So that's it. Profit."_ _

__"The rumors are not exaggerated," Swindle says cheerfully, tone only slightly forced. "Am I going to get to see your spike or not?"_ _

__Lockdown laughs for just long enough to irritate Swindle before he slips his hook out of Swindle, pushing himself back up to his original position._ _

__"Yeah, it's modded," he says as he opens up his panels, spike extending. It's as mis-matched as the rest of him, an innocuous-looking white length with some interesting grooves in it. Swindle's fingers itch to touch it and see just what it's hiding. "Still want to frag?"_ _

__"Do I ever," Swindle says, and that's all the consent he can give before Lockdown's lining them up and thrusting in, hook banging against his hip as Lockdown holds his shoulder for stability._ _

__For several seconds they lock gazes, anticipation and arousal shot through their fields so thickly Swindle can barely tell which emotions belong to which fields, and then Swindle starts laughing as he realizes - they're waiting for each other to activate a mod, show off what they can do._ _

__"I'll start simple," he says, activating his vibrators and savoring the way Lockdown stiffens and dims his optics. Swindle knows how he feels, all wet and hot, vibrations at just the right tempo to push a mech to the edge - and he doesn't know how sensitive Lockdown is, what secrets he has hiding, just that he's a surprisingly comfortable fit. Almost boring, if there weren't his hidden mods to anticipate -_ _

__Charge leaps between Lockdown's plating, crackling between them ominously as the faint scent of ozone creeps in - Lockdown's injured, and this is a risk to strain his systems, but Lockdown begins to thrust, setting a demanding pace that forces Swindle's hands to the berth to hold on tight._ _

__Someone gasps, and Lockdown's engine roars as he speeds up, the slick drag of his spike changing into a rough nearly-painful momentum as textures develop - Swindle arches, calling out as one configuration of ridges sets his sensory grid alight._ _

__"That it?" Lockdown says, voice ragged and raspy as he slows his thrusts, making Swindle whine with need._ _

__"Don't _stop!"__ _

__Lockdown laughs, speeding back up, hook slipping along his side before it finds the spaces between protoform and plating, its sharp tip digging into sensitive wiring and providing a counterpoint of pain as Swindle frantically bucks up against Lockdown, only barely remembering to activate the next level of vibrations -_ _

__He loses the next set of kliks to their desperate movements, finesse left behind as Swindle's overload flares through him, systems crashing protectively as he falls back on the berth, fans working overtime as he struggles to watch Lockdown - his mods haven't stopped, artfully designed to run on separate systems so his partners can keep going when he can't -_ _

__Lockdown doesn't take long, nearly crushing Swindle's shoulder as he sags forward, optics flaring as he finds his own overload._ _

__He looks - good, Swindle thinks. He appreciates welcome surprises in a purchase - and now he's getting too close to the bounty hunter, and it's time to go._ _

__Swindle reaches up as soon as he can, taking Lockdown's shoulders and pushing him up, sitting up with him as he scoots back, valve panel closing itself as soon as Lockdown's spike is out - he catches a glimpse of it reconfiguring itself back into its original shape before it folds away and behind Lockdown's panels._ _

__They look at each other, fans still working, and Lockdown tilts his head._ _

__"Y'got somewhere to be?"_ _

__"If we want to avoid an alien brig, yes," Swindle says brightly. "We'll talk after you've had your recharge."_ _

__"Trouble with customs?" Lockdown guesses, which is entirely too on-point for an exhausted and sated mech._ _

__"Nothing you need to worry about," Swindle says, climbing out of the berth - he stops before he gets very far, turning back. Somehow Lockdown cuts an even more intriguing figure with lubricants on his thighs._ _

__"Thank you," Lockdown says as Swindle stays for just a moment more._ _

__"What?"_ _

___"Thank you_ for the rescue," Lockdown says. He must be tired enough to say it and mean it._ _

__Swindle should shrug it off, say something about the profits - he has a problem if one fragging session has him this off-balance - but he smirks, pulls himself together._ _

__"You owe me," he says. "Get some rest, Lockdown - you have a busy day ahead of you."_ _

__"I'll bet," Lockdown says, and Swindle saunters out of there, keeping his composure together until the door swishes shut and he gets the chance to lock it and lean against it._ _

__He can talk a good game, after all, but when it comes down to the bottom line - he might just _like_ the bounty hunter._ _


End file.
